Soul of the Cards
by Hero Genkaku
Summary: When an ancient power is awoken, the cards will gain new life. Fate and time collide as Yugi and the rest are swept into the flow of an eternal struggle that is remembered only by the stars. Please R&R! Yugi-oh!Suikoden Crossover
1. The Beginning

He had finally found it, the object of his long search that over the years had become an obsession to his soul.  
  
Here in the last wilds of the Asian continent, deep in the heart where not a single human soul had stepped in the last five thousand years, the man answered the ethereal calling that pulled at his very heart.  
  
At the base of a large nameless mountain he came to a stop. Bare hard stone stood expanding upwards seemingly forever.  
  
Gingerly the man placed a hand upon it's rough surface finding no visible door.  
  
But he knew despite what it appeared be, it was indeed here. Neither stone nor steel could hamper the sound of the voice that had called to him for the past seven years.  
  
"Open the door..." The man spoke, and upon his hand a symbol, a tattoo, flashed silver, causing a small gust of wind to blow his black spiky fringe back slightly.  
  
The winds suddenly picked up as if responding to the man's order, trees of the surrounding jungle began to bend slightly under the wind's breath. All living creatures near and far began to stir, giving a sudden cry of surprise, a protest, a warning to the man's actions.  
  
Knowing better the man interpreted these signs that he was being proven correct in his speculation.  
  
'It' was here.  
  
The jungle's natural inhabitants served as its eternal guardians for eons. But now, there was nothing they could do to deter him, for he had the mark, the birthright, to claim what the mountain hid with in.  
  
The mountain gave a slight tremor, as an old door would turn on old and rusted hinges. Soon its door was revealed, the path way opened.  
  
Beneath the man's hand an ancient circle full of runic carvings had appeared, as though someone had just carved it into the mountain face. Light soon filled the grooves, it's source flowing from the silver mark upon his hand. And soon every rune began to glow with his power.  
  
And the door was finally opened.  
  
It startled the man somewhat as it wasn't by any means a normal conventional door as he had suspected, but something more magical. Once befitting for its day and age, this 'portal' may have had a name, but the man couldn't care less as long as it took him to the end of his search.  
  
It was rather odd feeling his body enveloped in light, getting lighter and lighter, and then to suddenly awaken inside a hollow tunnel. His heart raced faster, not in fear but in anticipation. Inside the cave proved a little more hospitable as man made pillars carved with care stood out against the mountain walls. At certain intervals, there were ancient sconces built into the hard walls but with in them burned not red flames, but blue light. They lighted the tunnel with their quiet light as to beckon him further and take care not to awaken its sleeping prisoner.  
  
The stories had been true after all. Walking forward briskly, he could hardly contain his excitement. His footsteps echoed throughout the hollow inside, proving to be a lonely sounds indeed, his breath quickened with every step.  
  
'It is mine, it belongs to me...'  
  
Finally the tunnel opened up into a huge monstrous cavern, the tiny blinking light of the sconces on the far side the only indication of its vast enormity. The air was musty, ancient, and almost acidic. The few sconces placed with in this cavern provided little light, but it mattered not, for what he seeked, he could see clear enough, with out the aid of light. In the very center of the large room, the same runes were drawn into the hard ground, these, unlike the one outside, showed the signs of attrition, runic symbols of the same origin faded in some places, while others were covered in dirt.  
  
Walking through them as though a nuisance, the man made his way to the very center of the writings. There, a rather deep rectangular hole had been dug.  
  
He stood corrected, it hadn't been dug, it had been carved, for the floor was, as he had observed earlier, hard stone.  
  
'Quite the feat.' The man mused, a smile drawing upon his features. 'It must have taken years to do, but then again, they probably had years to do so.' But who would take the time to dig such a tedious grave?  
  
Indeed, it really did feel as though he were invading someone's eternal resting place. The stale air was heavy with disdain; the feeling was so tangible, that the man swore he could taste it. Had he disturbed some one's resting place?  
  
Quick to brush the thought aside the man kneeled next to the hole to peer inside, but could not see anything for it was too deep for the weak sconce light to reach. Reaching into his backpack, he retrieved a flashlight. It's very beams cut through the darkness and ruined his night-vision.  
  
The pit wasn't as deep as he had first thought, and he knew it was down there, for he no longer heard it's whispers, it's calling, any longer. As the beam of white light drew lower, the man gasped sharply in surprise. The pit was only six feet or so, carved as it was easy to see the myriad of scratch marks made by tools or other wise, but at the very bottom, the pit finally revealed it's inhabitant.  
  
"A boy...?"  
  
With in the circle of light, silver hair glinted, framing an undeniably young, porcelain face.  
  
One would have been boggled as to how such a child came to be! Perhaps the incompetent fool would have tried to searched for another door the child come through, for it seemed as though he had simply come in and went to sleep in this cool pit. Although from the stones and dirt that covered the boy it was an easy to see that he had been here for quite some time.  
  
But the man wasn't a fool, armed with the knowledge he had, he knew what, and perhaps with a bit of searching, /who/ he was looking at. There was no mistaking it, as the light fell over the boy from head to toe, it could be seen that the boy wore garments of foreign and forgotten origins that he had once lived in. Deep red tunic was softly worn with the passing of time; the gold embroidery and trimmings had paled but otherwise seemed in perfect condition. His hands, one of which was bandaged, were placed upon his stomach very much in the manner one would bury their dead.  
  
The worn and tattered bandage had come loose, and beneath it's gray and dirty wraps a black blemish could be seen against the boy's pale white skin.  
  
There was a bit of space in the unevenly made pit, so the man climbed in, careful not to disturb the child if he was in fact 'dead'. He only wanted to examine the marking on his hand a little better, flashlight in one hand, he reached out remove the bandage.  
  
Unfortunately he hadn't gotten any farther than that when the boy's hand jerked away, alarmed, and those large eyes fluttered open.  
  
It was like something out of a horror film!  
  
As if having trigging some switch, or being awakened from a nightmare, the boy's chest began to move, up and down, pulling the musty ancient air into his lungs before exhaling. The man drew back quite a little startled before pulling out his gun from its holster at his side with his other hand.  
  
However, other than awaking, the child had not done anything but lie there, staring up at the dark ceiling overhead. When the beam of light fell upon his face once more, it attracted his attention.  
  
Deep crimson eyes stared back at the man. Slowly and with much grace the boy pushed himself into a sitting position, a blank look about him. His stare was entrancing, forbidden and dark, like that of a vampire or a demon.  
  
It was a most mysterious gaze, one that spoke of decades, of centuries past. The man wondered what secrets the child had locked away behind such eyes.  
  
Pointing his gun directly at the boy's chest, the man regained control of the situation, as the boy's gaze was distracting. "Boy, who are you?"  
  
With such childish innocents the boy blinked those dark lashes questioningly, his pale lips moving, but not a sound coming fourth.  
  
The man demanded louder. "Well? Can you speak or not?"  
  
As if to try again, the boy moved his lips, still noting. Seeing as this child was obviously no threat, the man holstered his gun once more before kneeling to study the child a little more closely.  
  
"So you can't speak...Or rather, over the years you must have forgotten how to speak." The man looked to the child with a mixture of awe and pity. The child lowered his eyes feeling rather than understanding the man's words. Yes, he had been correct in his assumptions of this boy too. The child was a relic, a survivor, preserved perfectly and untouched by time itself, an eternal prisoner.  
  
While he had found the object of his search, he hadn't expected to find a carrier. But a carrier the boy was nonetheless and it did save him the trouble of finding a way to transport it. For a moment the man wondered if it had actually been the boy that had been calling him all these years instead of....  
  
Standing up purposely the man kept the white beam of light upon the boy unmercifully. "Let's get you out of here, you're coming with me." It was more of an order than a request really. Upon hearing this, the boy lifted his head and looked to him with those eyes. He didn't take the hand that the man offered quickly, but rather, hesitated. Contemplating, for only a moment, he seemed to be thinking, trying to recall something but was unable to. Perhaps along with forgetting how to talk, the boy had forgotten many other things as well. It wouldn't surprise him really. Finally after making up his mind (not that it would have mattered other wise for the man would have taken him regardless) the boy lifted a hand to take the man's. In doing so, the boy became his, his weapon, his tool, bringing him one step closer in his ambition. The boy was surprisingly sturdy, the grip firm. And here the man had expected him to be frail and light, like some damn skeleton.  
  
Shaking the thoughts from his mind, he had felt it was time to leave. He didn't want to waste any more time in this dank tomb with no door and no inhabitant. With the newfound power he'd acquired came the new responsibilities. There was much to do, but he had all the time in the world for time could touch neither him nor the boy.  
  
A/N: This is my first time writing anything for Yugi-oh! And I know the first chapter doesn't reveal much but there is so much more to come! But please, read and review and let me know how I'm doing, or if I'm lacking in anything I'll need a lot of help as I go along. Characters from Yugi-oh! and Suikoden does not belong to me but to their respective creators.  
  
Hero Genkaku 


	2. The Legend

In the beginning, there was '_Darkness._'  
Then, the '_Darkness_' shed a '_Tear_.'  
From that '_Tear_,' the brothers _Sword_ and _Shield_ were born.  
_Shield_ claimed it could defend against any attack.  
_Sword _claimed it could slice through anything.  
The brothers began a legendary battle.  
At the end, both _Sword _smashed _Shield_ and _Shield_ shattered _Sword_. Pieces of _Sword_ became the sky, Fragments of _Shield _became the earth, and the sparks from the battle became the stars.  
As for the 27 jewels that adorned _Sword_ and _Shield_, they fell to the ground and became the 27 _True Runes of Destiny_.  
  
And the world went into motion.

Legends of the True Runes


End file.
